Valentines day at 221B Baker Street
by CollidingWithTheSky
Summary: After John's recent divorce from Mary, he realises his feelings towards Sherlock are stronger than expected. Afraid of rejection, John conceals his feelings, but how long can he keep this up? Side note: Sorry if it's terrible, It's my first try at a fan fiction.
1. Chapter 1: Denial

**Chapter 1: Denial**

_(John's POV)_

John sat silently, typing up a post on his blog, he and Sherlock had recently solved a strange case, and John thought it was worthy enough to be put onto his page. He looked up and saw Sherlock sat comfortably in his chair flicking through the newspaper to see if he could find anything worth investigating, Sherlock looked up and saw John looking at him. "Can't keep your eyes off of me, can you? Not even for a second." Sherlock smirked. John felt himself going red and turned his attention back to his laptop. "You're an utter cock, you know that, don't you Sherlock?" John joked. Sherlock let out a reserved sigh, "I know, but you wouldn't like it any other way, would you? It'd be too dull without me". John once again looked at Sherlock and realised that he was right, he took a moment to remember his life before he met Sherlock. He recalled how useless he had felt, he yearned for action, he had never been the same after the war, he always wanted to feel the adrenalin rush which he had gotten whilst fighting. Solving cases with Sherlock, chasing serial killers and murderers, it gave the rush that he so urgently craved. He felt like he had a strange connection with Sherlock, but he never told Sherlock this, he was too embarrassed of how he would react, he remembered when he asked Sherlock to be his best man, he recalled how Sherlock had just gone into some state of shock.

John had recently divorced Mary, the emotional stress she had caused him had just torn him apart. They both agreed that it would just be easier for them to break it off, but there was another reason John couldn't continue the relationship. He had feelings for somebody else, but he refused to accept them, these newly found feelings confused and scared the fuck out of him. John snapped back to reality and realised he was crying, luke warm tears poured down his cheeks. Sherlock sat up, concerned. "John, what is it? What's wrong?". John wiped the tears away with the sleeve of his jumper but they kept falling anyway, he shrugged at Sherlock and mumbled "Nothing". Sherlock rushed over to John and looked down at him through pitiful eyes, "You can tell me, John, I may be an utter cock sometimes, but I'm not the mocking type." John looked up at Sherlock, "I'm still trying to get over Mary" he lied, he looked down at the floor. Sherlock nodded but he didn't want to pry so he didn't say anything more. Sherlock returned to his chair but continued to look at John, John collected himself and went back to typing.

John knew deep down that he liked Sherlock more than he should, he remembered how many times Sherlock had saved his life. Although he wanted to punch that smug face of his sometimes, Sherlock was the reason that John had seen Mary for who she truly was. The thought of being married to that woman made him feel uneasy and he was sure he was going to throw up. John sprinted to the bathroom and locked the door behind him, the feeling remained in the pit of his stomach but he was unable to be sick. Then he thought about how he felt around Sherlock, the uneasy feeling was replaced by butterflies. He shook his head, feeling stupid. He was a grown man not a teenage school girl. He refused to let these feelings change his day to day life, even if he did admit his feelings, he doubted Sherlock would feel the same way. John unlocked the bathroom door and walked back into living room, Sherlock raised his eyebrows questioningly, John simply shrugged and said "Felt sick". Sherlock nodded and went back to reading the newspaper whilst John went back to his laptop and starting tapping away at the keyboard. "Found anything interesting?" John asked without looking up. "No, all of them are so simple and boring, either I'm getting smarter or the police force are getting stupider. I need one which is interesting and complicated." Sherlock replied, bitterly. John laughed, "Okay, I'll go to the shops in a moment and get more newspapers, I need some fresh air anyway". Sherlock smiled and simply said "Okay".


	2. Chapter 2: The biggest discovery

**Chapter 2: The biggest discovery**

_(Sherlock's POV)_

Once John had shut the door, Sherlock let out a loud sigh, he felt so useless. He was the smartest man in the whole of Great Britain but he couldn't work out what was bothering John, not for sure anyway. It was a stupid thought, as if John liked him, but all the signs were there. Sherlock sank further into his chair and entered his mind palace. He recalled how flustered John was when he pointed out that he couldn't keep his eyes off of him, he paused the scene in his mind and looked closely at John's eyes. His pupils suddenly dilated when he looked up at Sherlock, this was either because of the contrast of the laptops light compared to the rooms lighting, or it meant that John was attracted to him. He also thought about how John had lied about why he was crying, he looked embarrassed. Sherlock ran a hand through his hair, he stood up and paced up and down, unable to keep still. Think Sherlock, he thought, "THINK" he said aloud, he came out of his mind palace and went back over to his chair. He pulled out the violin which was sat comfortably behind it. This had become a habit of Sherlock's, whenever he was feeling uneasy or anxious, he would simply play the violin to calm himself down. He gently placed his chin on the violin and picked up the bow which he then drew across the strings. He closed his eyes and let the music consume him.

After he could no longer stand to play, he got up once more, gently placed the violin back and opened the door. "MRS. HUDSON, TEA, NO SUGAR" He shouted down the empty staircase. There was no verbal reply but he could hear the sound of muffled movement and the whistle of the kettle. He smiled and closed the door. He lay down on the sofa and stared at the gunshot hole in the wall. He inspected it with close detail until he got tired of looking at it. No more than a few minutes later, the door opened and walked in holding a cup of tea on a white tray. "Oh Sherlock, I really do wish you'd do things for yourself, I'm not your mother" She rolled her eyes at Sherlock and handed him the drink. Sherlock sat up and took a sip, he grimaced, "I thought I said no sugar? Can't you do anything right?". He put the cup on the floor and laid down once more. "Bored!" He shouted. tutted "Oh for goodness sake, Sherlock, find a case, where's John gone off too? How are you two by the way?" She winked at a confused Sherlock. What did she mean by that, he thought. "He's gone to get more newspaper so I can find an interesting case, and us two are fine, even though its none of your concern." He replied. "I know you like him, Sherlock" She laughed "It's so obvious, just because I'm not smart like you, you think I don't see how you act around him?" She was in a fit of giggles now. How absurd she sounded, he didn't like John. Or he didn't think so. What is love, he thought. Was it the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that he got only around John, or was it the way he was fixated with John? left Sherlock to think, and shut the door quietly behind her.

Sherlock felt his phone vibrate, it startled him. He flipped open the phone and read the message:

_'Sherlock, going to be late coming back, I need to clear my head. Need anything while I'm out? -JW.'_

Sherlock felt a sudden sadness, then scolded himself for letting himself be saddened by John being later than he should be. He sigh and started to type a reply back. He wanted to write _'I need you. Come home. I need to tell you something'_. But he settled with:

_'Okay, be sure to get those newspapers. Be careful. -SH'_

Sherlock began to laugh, he liked John, he had never been attracted to anybody really, Irene has been nothing but a fling. He realised that everything John did amazed him, the way he would look down when he lied, the way he would put his hands on his hips when he's angry. The situation with Mary had seriously impacted John, Sherlock just wanted to hold John in his arms and tell him everything was going to be okay. He loved making John smile, it gave him a weird feeling in his stomach. Of all the cases he had solved, this had be been the best, he had made his biggest discovery yet, he loved John Watson and for the first time in ages, Sherlock was truly happy. The only thing that worried him was how he would go about telling John, he sighed and looked at the floor. He got up, smoothed out his suit and opened the door. He needed to ask . He walked down the creaky staircase, dragging his hand across the banister. He walked up to 's door and knocked gently with his knuckles, she opened the door and stared up at him, "Yes, Sherlock?". He coughed shyly and said "How do I tell him?". She smiled brightly and opened the door fully, "Come in, come in, this should be good" She laughed, Sherlock entered and shut the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3: Acceptance

**Chapter 3: Acceptance **

_(John's POV)_

John read the text that Sherlock had sent, then stuffed the phone back into his pocket. He wondered what Sherlock was doing, what he was thinking about, if he was bored without him. John was going to be later than usual as he wanted to take a walk to clear his head, he needed to collect his thoughts. How did he really feel towards Sherlock? He asked himself this and sighed contently, Sherlock made him happy and made him feel useful. John approached the shop and walked inside, instantly feeling warmer. He skimmed through the magazine section and picked up some newspapers. As he was walking to the checkout, he spotted the flowers. He felt his cheeks redden, Valentines day was next week, he'd love to buy some crimson red roses for Sherlock. "For god sake, Pull yourself together, John" He muttered to himself. He smiled politely at the cashier as she told him the total amount, he pulled some loose coins out of his pocket and handed them to her. Tucking the newspapers comfortably under his arm, he took a step out of the shop and began to walk back to the flat.

Before going back, he decided to take a shortcut through the park, his eyes landed onto the bench where he had bumped into Mark. He remembered how he had told Mark that he wanted to move, Mark had said he knew of someone who needed a flatmate. And that's when he met Sherlock Holmes, the most amazing man, John had thought he was mad to begin with. It still memorized him how Sherlock had known everything about John, how he'd fought in the war, pretty much who he was. John smiled and sat down on the bench. He knew that he depended on Sherlock, and in someway, Sherlock depended on John. They needed eachother, they were the perfect duo. John had liked Sherlock for a while but refused to admit it, he told himself that he was being stupid. But after his recent breakup with Mary, he needed Sherlock more than ever. He loved Sherlock, everything that arrogant man did amazed him. "He can be an utter cock," he thought, "but he's the most brilliant man on this damn planet." John lifted himself off of the bench and began heading towards Baker Street.

John walked up to the black door, and opened it gently. He shut the door behind him and climbed the creaky stairs. He opened the door to his and Sherlock's flat, Expecting to see Sherlock sitting in his chair, he was shocked when he discovered the room to be empty. He had the strange feeling that Sherlock was still in the flat though, during the war, John had to train his detection skills so he could tell if the enemy or team mates were near. John stood there, feeling confused, Sherlock wasn't usually the one to socialise. What could be so important that he would need to talk to Mrs. Hudson? He thought. He shrugged off his thoughts and placed the newspapers on the arm of Sherlock's chair, then sat down. He had never had the opportunity to sit in Sherlock's chair, he greedily let himself sink into the comfy leather chair. John breathed in and felt instantly happy, it smelt like Sherlock which gave John a sense of comfort. John suddenly felt tired and allowed his eyes to close, he imagined the sweet sound of Sherlock playing the violin, and before he knew it, John drifted into a comfortable sleep.

When he awoke, he saw Sherlock sitting on the sofa, reading through the newspapers which he had brought. John wiped his eyes, groggily, and yawned. This alerted Sherlock that John was awake, he looked up at John and smiled. "Fuck you and your perfect smile" John thought to himself. "Have a nice nap, did we? In my chair, I see. You should've asked me John, it's the polite thing to do" Sherlock murmured whilst smirking. "I was tired, and you weren't here, so I just sat here, okay?" John replied hastily. "Where were you, anyway?" John asked. He watched as Sherlock's cheeks reddened. What was he hiding? "I was uh, checking in on Mrs. Hudson, yes, that's where I was" Sherlock answered unconvincingly. Was he lying? John raised his eyebrows at Sherlock. "You? Checking in on her? Really, Sherlock? I don't think you're telling me the whole story" John laughed, trying to hide his anger. Why was he not telling him what he was doing? They were supposed to be best friends, he thought. Sherlock coughed and turned his attention back to the newspaper, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and sighed. "I was...asking for advice" Sherlock mumbled, defeated. John burst out laughing, "You?! Asking for help, the great Sherlock Holmes asking an elderly woman for advice? This is brilliant!" John wiped the tears from his eyes and managed to stop laughing. "I'm sorry, so uh, what did you need to ask her about?" He asked casually. Please tell me, John thought, I could help. He looked at Sherlock through sad eyes, Sherlock placed the newspaper on the table and got up. "John, I uh, need to tell you something" Sherlock said nervously. John wondered what was bothering him so badly. "Well go on, spit it out" John said impatiently. Sherlock scolded him and John laughed. "This is serious, John. So I was talking to earlier. I needed some advice. I asked her 'How do I show compassion towards another being?'. She told me 'Just do what your heart desires'. Understandably, I told her that the brain controlled the body not the- Well that's not important. I took her advice on board, and John, you're an amazing man, you've fought in the war, you've solved many cases. And the way Mary lied to you, that was just disgusting, you deserve to be happy with someone. To the point, there's a tradition called 'Valentines day', I've never really thought much of it, but apparently, that's how people show compassion. They asked a person to be their 'Valentine'. Now, I don't care about one's sex or race, it's more about the personality and brains. You're a brilliant man, John Watson. So. Will you be my Valentine?" Sherlock finished, out of breath. John shook and burst into a heap of sobs. "Did I do something wrong?" Sherlock asked worriedly. "No you bloody-" John sniffled "idiot, I'm just so happy. Yes, I'll be your god damn valentine" He cried. Sherlock smiled and knelt down to be face level with John. "I love you" He said, simply. John looked at Sherlock through tear filled eyes. "I love you too".


End file.
